Written in Emotion
by Valli
Summary: Maria Sanchez, one of the newer writers for WWE magazines, never thought that writing up an aritcle would be so tiring. Until, that is, she was given the challenge of John Cena.
1. Chapter 1

                **Disclaimer:** I do not own the WWE, that would be owned by their chairman.  The WWE also owns any of the characters that they have made, I do not.  I also do not own any of the people mentioned in this story, I certainly hope that they own themselves.  I only can claim ownership of Maria Sanchez and any other characters that you do not recognize.

__________________________________________________________________________________

                In the office that she had been assigned to earlier that morning, Maria Sanchez placed a cardboard box on top of the oak desk with a huff.  She didn't know what exactly had been thrown in there from her former office, but whatever it was, it sure weighed quite a bit.  And Maria, who was not at all full of muscle like most of the people she'd be working around there, had quite the adventure trying to get that box from one point to the other.

                "Well now that I have that squared away, time to unload," Maria said aloud, wiping her palms across her pants.  She wasn't at all dressed up, because she had been given special permission the day before to wear casual clothes so she would be able to unpack everything into her office more easily.  She'd decided on wearing a nice pair of pants and a button-down blouse, unlike other people she knew of that would've just thrown on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that hadn't been washed in a week.  Maria never was one to take advantage of the special permission she was given.

                Grabbing the item on the very top of the first pile in the large box, she pulled out a binder, which was filled with all of the articles Maria had written in her year and a half of working with the company.  She smiled slightly as she placed the black binder in one of the larger drawers in the desk.  Next, Maria took out two or three notebooks, filled from margin to margin with written notes she had taken.  There wasn't a reason for her to keep the notes she had taken for her first or second article, but she seemed to be attached to them for some odd reason.

                The third item she grabbed from the box was one of the few decorative items that would ever be placed anywhere in the office.  It was a small, wool covered animal figurine.  "Llama" Maria said, laughing quietly for a few moments as she placed the figurine of a small white llama on the top of the desk and went back to unpacking.  Then, she pulled out a stapler, a picture frame, and a tape dispenser, which were all placed somewhere on the surface of the oak desk.

                It took her a while, but Maria finally finished unpacking all of her belongings from inside the box.  She put the box beside her desk, thinking it would be wise to keep it for a while just in case someone in one of the higher offices decided to switch her office once again.  They seemed to like to move everyone around right when everyone was beginning to settle down from the last move they had had to make.  They said that it was so that they could make sure everyone was on their toes, but no one ever seemed much like standing on their toes after a day of packing and unpacking.

                Maria sat at the black chair positioned behind the desk.  It was a very nice chair, black leather and it was a swivel chair as well.  In all honesty, Maria never understood the whole concept of the reason to have a chair that could spin around until she had to use one herself.  Then, she saw the true value of a chair quite like the one she was sitting in when one was stuck between a pile of paper work, a ringing phone, and an online conference about to launch in two minutes.

                Within five seconds of her sitting down, the black phone on the desk began ringing.  Maria reached her arm over nearly half of the desk, and grabbed the phone off the hook.  Placing it against her ear, she spoke, "Maria Sanchez's office.  May I help you?" Of course, no one in any of the offices spoke that formally on a normal day, because the people who normally called them only wanted to assign them a new article to write up to begin with.

                "Maria, I need an article to fill the place of Ty's for the next issue" the voice on the other line spoke promptly and quickly.  It was the voice of the head of nearly the entire building, Leslie McCartney.  She was definitely one of the women in the building that everyone stayed clear of, especially around that specific time of the month that she had.  Leslie was just someone who could bite your head off, and that was on a good day.

                Rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, Maria replied, "Sure thing, Leslie.  I'll have it on your desk come Monday."  It was Wednesday already, which only gave her about five days to complete her newly received project.  Maria would have to work overtime for a few days, even if she didn't get paid extra for it.  "Whom should I write it on?"

                Maria could tell that Leslie was already stressing over on the whole thing.  She never was one that liked to give the newer workers big articles in the magazines.  And Leslie seemed to have it out for Maria, which didn't help matters much.  But, if she wanted to give Maria the chance, then she wouldn't be able to get it back.

                After a short pause, Leslie answered, "One of the newer talents.  We need to give the young man a slight push in the magazines as well as in the storylines."  Well, that still didn't give Maria much information, so she had better continue after her dreaded silence.  

                "Leslie, that doesn't say much.  I'll be needing a name" Maria replied, twirling a piece of her curly brown hair around her index finger.  "Saying that the man's a new, young talent gives me many, many aspiring people to write about on this blank paper sitting in front of me."

                She could tell that her boss was not at all pleased with her tone, but she was just stating a fact.  No one could read the woman's mind, and Maria could think of at least ten different people she could have wanted the article written on.  And, with her luck, she'd probably have to write about one of the few that didn't even deserve this push that Leslie had blabbered about just a minute before.

                Leslie sighed, "Maria, I do not need your tone today young lady.  You are not my teenage daughter and I would appreciate it if you would show some respect for both your elders and the person in charge of your paycheck" she replied.  Knowing Leslie, she probably had a satisfied smirk spread across her face after whipping the much younger writer back into her rightful place.

                Rolling her eyes, Maria tapped her fingers on the desk.  "I'm sorry Leslie.  But, would you please tell me who I have to write this up on so I can start writing?" she asked, purposely trying to sound very smug and rude as well as innocent at the same time.

                "John Cena.  Do have fun," Leslie said, probably allowing her smirk to grow slightly as she dropped the phone back onto the hook with a click.  That left Maria to listen to the dial tone for a second or two as she tried to process the fact that her boss had just hung up on her without much of a warning.

                Turning in her wonderful swivel chair, Maria pulled the keyboard of the computer, which was placed on another desk behind her, out.  With incredible speed, she began to type.  Leslie wanted an article on this John Cena character, did she? Well, Maria would certainly deliver.


	2. Chapter 2

                The buzzing of the alarm clock on the nightstand jerked Maria out of her sleeping state.  She rolled over, covering her head with one of the pillows that had been pushed around the previous night in her tossing and turning fit.  "It's too early for this," she mumbled, gripping the white pillow tightly over her ears.  Obviously it was too early for her to realize that all she had to do was knock the damn clock off of the nightstand to make it turn off for the remainder of the morning.     

                But, after a minute or two of listening to the intensely annoying shrieking of the clock, Maria sat up in the large bed.  She flung the pillow that she had clamped down over her head at the ringing object.  As soon as the feather-filled pillow knocked the clock over, all was silent.  And that was just how Maria enjoyed to keep her mornings in her apartment.

                She dragged her feet into the bathroom, shielding her eyes as she flicked on the light switch.  She put her palms on the cool white sink as she stared into the mirror that hung above it.  Her hair was rumpled and quite a mess, her eyes were red and tired, and she certainly didn't look like the person she did in the office.  But, it was nothing a shower, a hairbrush, and a little bit of makeup couldn't fix.

                Maria rid her body of the pajama shorts and tank top she had worn to bed the night before, dropping the articles of clothing ridden with sweat into the laundry basket.  She'd definitely need to do the laundry when she got home from work; the basket was nearly full with her clothes.  In her mind, she could hear the voice of her housewife of a mother saying something along the lines of "that's not sanitary, young lady," which made Maria laugh as she stepped into the tiled shower.

                A few minutes later, after every inch of her body was cleaned, Maria rung out her dripping wet hair and flung it over her shoulder.  She wrapped a cream colored towel around her body, and opened the bathroom door.  The steam from the shower rushed away, and the fresh cool air hit her right in the face as she stepped out of the hot bathroom.

                Once in the kitchen, she picked up a copy of Raw magazine, which had been published months before.  Her current challenge was sprawled across the cover for that month's issue, and an entire section was devoted to the Massachusetts-native.  As she waited for her brewing coffee, Maria flipped through the pages carefully, skimming a few of the paragraphs as quickly as she possibly could.

                Taking her coffee with her, Maria went back into her room to get dressed for the day.  She had already picked out her outfit for the day, which wasn't much of a surprise.  A spring-themed skirt, and a blue top would go just fine, along with her favorite sandals.  Maria never did like to scramble around to find clothes for the day, so she settled on putting her outfit together the night before.

                It didn't take her long to dress, so she poured what was left in the coffee pot into a large traveling cup and headed off to work.  She stepped into her car, which was parked on the street across from her apartment building, and turned the radio up just a tad.  "Another day in hell" she mumbled as she pulled into the street, rolling her eyes slightly.

                To Maria's surprised, she made it to work in record time.  There hadn't been any traffic, and the roads were cleared of almost all construction.  She silently wondered what was going on in the city, but didn't bother to question it as she strode into the office building.

                "Good morning Rachel" Maria said, greeting the receptionist at the desk with a friendly smile and a nod as she walked briskly by.  The two always greeted each other in the morning; it was sort of a ritual, as they were two of the only people considered friendly in the entire building.

                Rachel smiled in return, "Good morning to you too, Maria.  Oh, Leslie wants you to be in a meeting in three hours.  She didn't say much about it, but I'm sure she left you something on your desk" she said as Maria raced to catch and elevator, nodding that she heard her.

                Once inside her office, Maria shut the door and went straight to her desk.  She sat at the swivel chair and moved a few papers around, searching for something--anything--on this meeting that Rachel had told her about.  A yellow post-it note was stuck on top of a filing folder, and Maria quickly snatched it up.  It read simply: 11, meeting office 2, be there.

                She sighed, crumpled the yellow square up, and tossed it into the garbage bin.  "Well, that gives me all of three hours to get to work" Maria said aloud to herself.  If Leslie planned on letting her attend the meetings the entire week, she'd only have half of an article to hand in.  And she wasn't about to let Leslie get to her; she'd just have to work that much harder.

                She spun the chair around, in order to face the computer, and logged on to the World Wide Web.  She didn't know how much information she'd find on the new poster-boy, but she might as well be happy with what she could turn out.  But, the Internet would have to be her main source, as there weren't any books with the name John Cena printed in them, and, without a shadow of a doubt, Maria new that an interview with the man himself would be out of the question.

                Typing as fast as she possibly could, notebook in hand and a pen held behind her ear, Maria went searching.  She took notes, scribbling across the pieces of paper in the notebook quickly.  And, within an hour or so, she had five pages of notes and quite a few random doodles in the corners and margins of her paper.  Maria had to thank the high heavens for the fans and their little websites, which she now referred to as masterpieces of the Internet.  If it had not been for them, she'd have absolutely nothing.

                Two hours later, Maria was running down the halls in her high-heeled sandals, trying to make it to the elevator in record time.  And, she did.  She tapped her foot the entire way up to the sixth floor, and then bolted toward the meeting office she had been told to arrive at.  Maria made it, with two minutes to spare, as she sunk down into one of the very comfortable-looking leather chairs.


End file.
